


Soaked to the Skin

by alexenglish



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Dresses, Established Relationship, Face-Sitting, Future Fic, Genderqueer Character, Genderqueer Scott McCall, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 08:41:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5241929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexenglish/pseuds/alexenglish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott is wearing a dress.</p><p>It’s not the first time Scott’s worn a dress, because it’s something they do when they feel feminine. They slip into something flowy, and lounge around the house, teasing Stiles with miles of legs until Stiles tears the dress off of them and buries himself inside of them. But, this time it’s different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soaked to the Skin

Scott is wearing a dress.

It’s not the first time Scott’s worn a dress, because it’s something they  _do_  when they feel feminine. They slip into something flowy, and lounge around the house, teasing Stiles with miles of legs until Stiles tears the dress off of them and buries himself inside of them. But, this time it’s different.

This time, Scott wore a dress  _all night_. The pack went to Sinema together, and Scott wore a _dress_  and a wig and they looked - They  _look_  so fucking good that Stiles is half hard just being around them. Even now, after hours of dancing, Scott looks incredible. The wig is ombre, dark brown to bright blonde, and styled in ringlets that were perfect at the beginning of the night, but are now tussled from Scott’s hands and Stiles’ hands. It still frames Scott’s face beautifully, accentuates their smokey eyes and plump mouth, wet with lip gloss. Stiles wants to  _wreck_ them.

“You look so fucking good,” Stiles says, pulling Scott in close when they tumble out of the taxi. They’ve been dancing all night, grinding their hips together, mouthing at each other’s skin. Stiles is thrumming from it, desire to take Scott apart completely overwhelming. He’s so fucking horny, he feels like he’s going to die, dick pressed against his zipper tightly.

“Not outside,” Scott says, but lets Stiles kiss them anyway, licking into their mouth, hands gripping their hips. The fabric of their dress slides over their skin when Stiles shifts his hands; their lips are sticky and they taste like berries. It’s just  _too much_ for Stiles to deal with. 

“I want to get my mouth on you,” Stiles says, grabbing Scott’s hand and pulling them into the building, up to their apartment. The elevator ride is all fumbling touches and kisses, like they haven’t done this before. The dress is thin enough that Stiles can thumb over Scott’s nipples, pinching them through the fabric until Scott is gasping against Stiles’ mouth, arching their hips against Stiles’.

When they get to their floor, Stiles rushes to open the apartment door, distracted by Scott’s warm hands on his back, playing with the hair at his nape. Scott takes two steps inside before Stiles grabs them, and slams them into the back of the door roughly.

They squeak in surprise as Stiles hoists them up, locking their legs around Stiles as he gets his hands on their thighs, pushing the skirt up enough to palm at their ass, fingers catching on their panties. Black, lace, and barely holding everything in the soft fabric. Stiles’  _can’t deal_. Scott fists their hands in Stiles’ hair, pulling hard, like they want him to focus.

It’s  _hard_  okay, literally. There’s so much more skin than there usually is. Scott’s legs are shaved smooth (Stiles had to beg them to let him help. He can’t deny that there’s something so intimate about kneeling between their legs and helping them shave), and Stiles just wants to touch, wants to drags his fingers all over their sensitive skin until they’re writhing.  

“I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging me to let you come,” Stiles promises, low and dirty as his teeth catch on Scott’s ear. They moan in approval, noise lost in their throat as Stiles kisses them roughly. He can’t help but press into them, grinding his hips against the bottom of their ass. 

“You should do that then,” Scott says, breathless and impatient as Stiles sucks marks into their neck. They disappear as quickly as he makes them, but he just digs his teeth in harder, presses his lips along their collar, moving the dress strap out of the way to kiss their shoulder.

“Impatient,” Stiles mutters, but grips their ass and holds them tightly, walking them to their room. He doesn’t bother flipping on the light, just dumps them on the bed and strips his shirt. 

“Leave it on,” he orders, when he notices them going to take off their dress. They freeze and give him a disgruntled look, eye flashing red. Instead, they take off their wig, throwing it in the corner, eyebrow raised in a challenge. Stiles doesn’t argue with that. They look striking with their normal short hair, but all their makeup on; it makes Stiles’ insides go all gooey.

Scott watches Stiles as he sheds his pants and briefs. Stiles doesn’t miss the way Scott’s eyes flutter as his cock springs free, the way they lick their lips, but this is absolutely not about Stiles or his dick. It’s about Scott, and Scott’s  _dress_. 

He pounces on them, kneeling between their legs, pressing kisses up their thighs, as he inches their skirt up. Their legs fall open, and he licks along the lace seam of their panties, slowly - tortuously slow. Their hips thrust up, but Stiles keeps them pinned, hands fisted in their dress, just using his mouth.

They’re hard, dick straining the material of their panties and god, Stiles’ mouth is watering thinking about the possibilities. He licks along Scott’s length, tasting fabric and that sweaty, musky scent that always accompanies Scott. It’s so intense at the vee of their legs, and Stiles loves it, nuzzling deeper to taste them.

“Stiles, please,” Scott whines, as Stiles sucks on the head of their cock through the fabric, barely tasting the precome. 

“Please what?” Stiles asks, moving down to lick their thighs. Scott’s thighs are a gift to humanity. Thick enough for Stiles to grip, and sensitive to the touch, trembling when Stiles pays them any attention. Now is no exception, Scott’s legs are practically vibrating as Stiles bites them, sucking on the skin there, bringing blood to the surface.

“Please stop  _teasing me_ ,” Scott says, eyes flashing red. The look makes Stiles’ stomach curl with excitement as he smirks. 

“I’m going to need you to sit on my face,” Stiles says, thoughtfully, tugging down the skirt so Scott is covered again. He slinks up their body, and gets his mouth on their chest, biting their nipples through the dress, tonguing over them until the fabric is wet and their nipples are hard. Scott arches, crying out and tugging Stiles’ hair, heels digging into the bed.

“Stiles,” they whine, squirming against him. Stiles kisses them roughly, tugging their hair. Their eyes are red as they watch him, and Stiles can’t resist licking the front of their teeth, their pointed canines. “ _Stiles_.”

“Why can’t I enjoy myself?” Stiles demands, but he drags off their underwear for them and flips them so that Scott is on top. Getting to fuck Scott  _is_  the fun part, so Stiles isn’t complaining, never complaining. He kisses Scott carefully, trailing his hand up Scott’s thighs and under the skirt of the dress.

Stiles grips Scott’s ass, hands kneading into the muscle, before he hauls Scott up, positioning their legs on either side of his head. Scott shivers when Stiles drags his nails down the back of their thighs, but they hold carefully still, quivering in place as Stiles touches them.

“You’re so good for me,” Stiles mutters, almost unconsciously. Scott makes a low noise, desperate. “So fucking good, baby. You wanna ride my face like a good girl?”

“Yeah,” Scott says, breathless, and Stiles cups their ass and brings them down, tonguing at their eager entrance. Scott blooms open for him, legs shaking as Stiles teases their rim ruthlessly, hands propping themself up against the wall.

It doesn’t take long for them to grind down on Stiles’ face like they can’t help help it, little whimpers spilling from their mouth as Stiles gets them sloppy with spit. It’s almost too much, claustrophobic under the skirt and Scott’s body, but Stiles can’t get enough of the way Scott’s muscles are trembling, the way they’re chanting Stiles’ name.

Scott drifts between shoving their ass against Stiles’ mouth, demanding more friction, and backing off, as if they know they’re half-suffocating Stiles in the process. Stiles just likes them on his face. They can take the lead or he will, he could care less what happens, as long as _either_  one happens. 

It’s like they can’t hold themself up, despite their werewolf stamina, despite the fact that they _should_  be able to, they’re shaking as Stiles parts their cheeks and dives in, as he drags his tongue over their entrance before thrusting it inside of them as deeply as he can.

“Do you want to come like this?” Stiles says, pulling away. Scott’s body follows, tight balls dragging against Stiles’ face, and that probably shouldn’t be as sexy as it is, but Stiles likes the desperation in the gesture.

“No,” Scott says, sounding completely out of breath and wrecked. “I need you to fuck me.”

“Your wish is my command,” Stiles says, wiggling out from under Scott’s body, keeping a hand on them so they know not to turn. “Just let me–” Stiles leans over and grabs the lube out.

He pushes up Scott’s skirt, biting the curve of their ass, hard. Scott cries out and jerks forward, then immediately comes back. Stiles tries not to be too smug when they whine his name again, but fails miserably. They keen when he drags his fingers along their hole, watching it unfurl for him.

“You’re doing so well,” Stiles praises, unable to help it. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Stiles leans down to rim Scott again, unable to help himself. He loves the way Scott arches their back hard, the way they push back, seeking Stiles’ tongue. They’re panting and groaning when Stiles finally sinks a finger into them, fucking it in and out, loosening them up.

When he adds the second finger, he kneels, dragging Scott onto his lap so he can mouth at their neck and play with their cock under the dress. They’re lost to sensation, babbling incoherently while Stiles calls them a ‘good girl’ and sinks a third finger into them.

“Stiles, please, please,” they beg, voice high and breathless when Stiles finds the right angle to stroke against their prostate. Stiles grunts, fully aware just how hard and aching he is, and obliges, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with his dick. Scott is tight and hot around him. Their fingers scramble at Stiles’ thighs as he rocks into them, shoving them forward onto all fours so he can fuck into them smoothly. 

“Stiles, harder,” Scott says, with a growl. Stiles groans, wondering if they’re wolfed out at all - if their eyes are red or their fangs are peeking out - and does what he’s told, scrambling up on his toes for more leverage to pound into them. Their breath stutters as he picks up his pace, hands tangled in their dress, using it to bring their hips back. 

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to feel the tightness in his skin, the bursting need to come.

“Are you close?” he asks Scott, because they need to come first. Scott nods, like they can’t form the words, so Stiles reaches around to tug at their cock. They groan and fall forward onto their elbows. Stiles follows, still jerking them off, moaning as they tighten around him. 

“Gunna come,” they say, right as Stiles feels their dick jerk, come spilling over his knuckles. 

“Good girl,” Stiles groans, thrusting into the tight space of their body before coming inside of them. Scott falls forward, and Stiles falls with them, lying on top of them. They breathe together, panting as they try to catch their breath.

“You owe me a new dress,” Scott mutters, elbowing Stiles over so that he rolls them on their sides and spoons Scott, still inside of them. 

“Why?” Stiles demands, sinking his teeth into Scott’s neck, making them arch again.

“There’s lube and jizz all over it,” Scott whines. 

“’S better that way,” Stiles mumbles, nuzzling closer. “I’ll buy you a new dress, I’ll buy you a thousand dresses as long as I get to fuck you in all of them.”

“Then, we will have the same problem as we do now!”

“That’s the point,” Stiles says, smugly. 

“An endless cycle of dresses with jizz stains?” Scott asks, looking at Stiles over their shoulder. Stiles leans up to kiss them, licking into their mouth, the front of their teeth. Scott sighs, licking him back, his lips and the curve of his cheek. “Deal.”

“Deal,” Stiles parrots, happily.

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on Tumblr!](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/post/133501666317/for-taylorpotato-who-is-the-best-kind-of)


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